


In Another Man's Shoes

by MajorEnglishEsquire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 12:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorEnglishEsquire/pseuds/MajorEnglishEsquire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Season 8 ending; nightmare mode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Another Man's Shoes

**Author's Note:**

> Original posting on Tumblr, [here](http://sonofabitchblog.tumblr.com/post/50164562277/in-another-mans-shoes).
> 
> I do not own the rights to these characters, setting, show, etc. No harm is intended.

Dean is throwing shit into a bag, throwing in anything and everything he can think of, with no idea of what he actually needs. He can hear the hurried sounds of Sam, down the hall, hauling out his own bag and some of the heavy-duty instructional books they'll need for the "cure." Sam's heels fall heavy on the sturdy floors of their bunker right now because he carries determination. He has someplace to be. A goal. A clear path to finishing the final task. To stopping the carnage. To setting all their other victims free.

The ones they've lost to Crowley in the past three days, well, they'll more than triple their gains, Dean figures, when they eject the twisted souls of each black-eyed bastard out of their meatsuits permanently, confining them to hell.

Academically, he knows most of them will be left with their insides bruised, broken and dying, demon-scarred just from what they carry.

But he has convinced Sam that this is the way to pull down wins from losses. And he has to stand behind those words to make his brother believe. To keep him from keeling over in coughing fits and spiking fevers from idleness, hopelessness.

He's yanking the zipper of his duffle shut over a mess of bundled weapons when he hears the sound of air ripping apart. Like Castiel's arrival.

He pauses for a moment thinking, _better not, you son of a bitch_ , and knowing, _actually, yeah, stupid fucker_.

Dean turns and Castiel is there in his room.

"Dean," he says with a nod, "I've just come to tell you something."

"It can wait," Dean spits. "We've got actual priorities here, Cas. One more task to wrap up and no _angelic assistance_ to so much as get us there," he shoots a glare at Cas and lifts his bag from the bed, intending to shoulder past him.

"Wait, _just wait_ ," Castiel says and puts one hand in the air in front of Dean.

He moves to go through it, ignoring Cas, so this time Cas steps around, in front of him, and actually places his hands on Dean's shoulders, steel in his arms, solid and celestial and not to be ignored. "Wait," Cas commands this time.

"The hell do you want," Dean sneers.

"One minute. I want one minute and then you should go. I know you need to leave, and quickly. I just need one minute, Dean."

Dean looks past him out to the hall, can hear a distant door shut. He's eager to follow.

And he can't deal with this right now. Can't even look at what is absolutely going to be a completely earnest face, Cas's eyes seeking his, screaming apologies with every look.

He knows he's sorry. (Always sorry.)

Doesn't have fucking time for this.

"Cas," he growls, but pauses. Turns. Drops the bag on the bed. "You've got thirty seconds. No more."

Cas takes up a full five seconds of his thirty being very quiet. Just staring at Dean.

Dean won't look at it, won't meet it. He crosses his arms and waits, looking over Castiel's shoulder.

"You don't have to worry about the other tablet. We don't need it," Cas says. "I have completed the first task and, I hope that by the time Sam has managed to close off hell, I'll be ending the third task to shut down heaven. I--"

He stops because Dean does meet his eyes then, his own wide and alarmed.

"Well. Not _shut down_. It will shut them _out_. It will confine the heavenly host and they will have to sort out their differences alone. They won't be able to interfere with you anymore. And I just wanted to say," Cas drops his eyes from Dean's intense stare. "I need to apologize. If you'll let me. For everything. And for not telling you about this." He shrugs, a gesture that makes him look small. Sad. "I know I should have asked you before I started but. I. Dean, I suppose I will always be asking for your forgiveness." He raises his eyes. "I will always be doing this out of order. I am sorry. Thirty-eight seconds," he frowns, says again: "Sorry."

They are quiet.

Dean drops his arms. Just breathes.

"How?" Dean asks.

"You really don't want to know."

"I really do."

"They are not anything I can be proud of. Certainly not moments that would inspire pride in you."

Dean is ashamed that he doesn't know what to say to that. He _is_ proud of Cas, against all logic. He _does_ forgive him. He was angry, and he's not crazy about the fact that Cas learned how to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. Or even help. But he's not nearly as mad as he ought to be. More sad than anything.

"I don't wish to keep you, I know you're in a hurry." Cas gestures vaguely at the way out. "I just wanted you to know. That you don't have to worry. I'll do this. I'll do this right. I promise."

He tries. He really does. But all he can choke out is yet another command.

"Be careful."

Castiel nods.

"Can I lend any assistance before I go? Is there anything you need to complete the third task?"

Dean remembers Sam after his first task, hurting and not showing it.

He should ask.

Doesn't.

"No," Dean says. (Doesn't say, _take care of yourself_.)

Castiel nods. "If there is time, if you are still in transit or working a ritual or, whatever it is you need to do? May I come see you once more before I embark upon my third task?"

Dean can only nod. Can't trust his jaw not to shiver if he unlocks it, can't trust his eyes not to betray how very much he's already forgiven Castiel. So he stays quiet. And distant. Still arm's-length away.

Cas is just staring again. Long since thirty seconds has passed.

Dean nods at the door. "Go do the job, Cas."

There is another moment before Castiel nods and steps back, readies to fly away. And then another moment.

He steps forward and in two long strides is folded over Dean, arms embracing him unexpectedly. Castiel presses his head against Dean's and stays there for a long time. Dean keeps his arms to his sides and carefully doesn't think about anything at all. Just as his hands rise to Cas's elbows, Cas steps back and nods.

(Doesn't say, _take care of yourself_.) And is gone.

«»

With the final battles, Abaddon's unexpected arrival, all the shit fucking flying everywhere, there's no time to remember that Cas should have showed up by now. Should have reported that he'd finished the second or maybe even the third task.

There are angels and demons splitting each other apart and screaming.

Human shields -- their victims, the Winchesters' friends and lovers--  
Well, _**their victims**_. Scattered everywhere.

Crowley, unable to resist a parting shot or five, mocks them until he can't grin so well anymore.

(One of them, when he's got Dean cornered, arms restrained by two demons: Crowley leans in close and inhales, deep. "Sweet like honey," he sneers. Dean nearly dislocates a shoulder trying to lunge for him.)

«»

So, the next time he sees him, it is is quiet.

The next time he sees him, the demons have gone from this earth, likely scrapping with each other in hell.

The next time he sees him, the angels have been locked away, even The Metatron, who was swept from the room with this shocked look. All that's left is the blank face and stroked-out, unseeing eyes of some new coma patient, down-and-out on the cathedral floor.

As for Castiel. Well.

The next time he sees him, he's not him at all.

He's breathing heavily, looking up at Dean from his shocked sprawl on the floor.

Lucid. That at least. But too lucid. Too comprehending. Too stunned. Wearing unfamiliar, vivid expressions.

Jimmy Novak wears his suit.


End file.
